Recovery
by CharlieTheAstr0naut
Summary: Very few men made it out alive after Loose Ends. By escaping with their lives and limbs, they've moved on to the recovery process. For Roach, it's a seemingly difficult process. (Also on AO3)


**This is sorta a vent fic, and I haven't written anything CoD related, so I might be a little rusty coming back into the fandom. Be warned, this is real angsty (It probably won't be to some, but I just wanna let you know anyway haha).**

* * *

The war was never meant to be fun and games, but for some, they never thought it would turn out to be this way. For the men of the 141, they definitely never thought that their own general would turn out to be a traitor; For the captains, never would they have imagined having to lose all their men in one day and assassinate Shepherd the next. Just when they thought things couldn't get any worse, it surprisingly didn't. They didn't expect their men, of whom they thought were dead, to contact them a month later telling them that they were alive. Yes, they may have been alive, but they were not well either, and when Price and Mactavish finally reunited with them, they saw just how much damage had been done.

There were only four men that returned. The first they saw were Archer and Toad, the best snipers anyone could imagine. Despite some bumps and bruises, they were the only two that were in one piece. Right behind them was the Lieutenant, who for the first time they saw without his mask. He was frail and shook as he stood, as if he couldn't support his weight. But he stood strong nonetheless. Leaning up against him, as he could barely support himself, was the young sergeant, Roach, who looked hellish compared to the others. Half of his face was bandaged, and he could barely say a word. But his one green eye spoke loudly—

They had just walked through hell.

* * *

Archer and Toad were the ones who did most of the talking of the events that occurred in Caucasus Mountains. They told how for the past month, they've been hiding out in a barn under the care of an old farmer, who just so happened to be a former medic as well, which is why Ghost and Roach managed to survive their wounds.

"I'm telling you," Archer began after sipping the rest of his beer, "If we had anything left of what happened, I'd give that man all we had. He really saved our asses, and better yet— He didn't tell anyone about where we were."

"Yeah, he was a real godsend," Ghost agreed, wearily.

"And when we finally managed to get Ghost off his arse, we moved out to get in touch with any other survivors…" Archer's eyes turned dark for a moment, "I really couldn't believe that we were the only ones who made it out… Six out of a big handful."

"Seven," Price corrected, exhaling out the smoke from his cigar, "We've had a new man join us; Hates Makarov more than you lot, but won't say why."

"Good thing he's on our side then," Toad commented, "Now, Price, tell me about Shepherd. What was the bastard's face like when you finally killed him?"

"Dunno… Soap's the one that did it. He threw a knife right into his eye."

That earned a good laugh out of the snipers including Ghost, who said with a dark smirk, "Now I'd give anything to see that. He deserved it."

As the laughter died down, the door opened, and stepping into the dining hall was Soap. "Hey, cap'," Toad greeted, "Just heard about how Shepherd took a hit right to the eye."

As he sat down, Soap could only nod in acknowledgement.

"Where were you?" Ghost questioned.

"With Roach," the Scot replied, "He's been off by himself for a while."

"How is he?"

Soap was silent for a moment, "He said he fine…"

"Do you believe him?"

"Not at all…"

* * *

"I can't see in this eye..." Roach began, directing his hand to the bandaged side of his face, "When the nurse was cleaning it, I couldn't see anything out of it..."

Ghost sat across from him, listening intently to his words and eying his body language. Roach had his hands clasped together as he bounced his foot off the floor. He was hunched over a bit, but his gaze was upwards as he continued to talk, "Then, when the doctor finally came in, he explained to me that... This side-This side of my face is practically broken. I can't... Whenever I smile, it will

only look crooked. My skin is still peeling off... I'm..." He forced a nervous laugh, and Ghost could see how when he did, only one side curved into a smile while the other half didn't. "I'm gonna be deformed."

"Oh, mate..."

"Never thought this would happen, you know? Not just being torn apart to a hideous state, but being betrayed by our own men..."

"Yeah, yeah..." Ghost could only nod.

"And now the world's looking at us like we're the enemy..." Roach perked up, snapping his fingers, "Being wanted. Ha... Now that's something else."

"Roach..." Ghost interrupted, and Roach's forced and crooked smile faded from his face as he stared at Ghost.

"Look, we've got a lot of ground to cover," He began, "We're gonna have to turn our focus to Makarov eventually and put an end to this bloody war. But, if you're over it and ready to turn in your stripes, we can find a way to prove your innocence and-"

"Sir, what're you suggesting?"

"That you don't have to fight if you don't want to. No one's gonna stop you. No one will judge you..."

Roach stared at him, slightly taken aback. He recalled a moment when he was still a private in training. Whenever his drill sergeant would talk to the soldiers on a run, he said that they could always quit and go home so they don't have to put up with running in ninety degree weather. Roach knew he was pushing them, and was successful at doing so since now he found himself here.

"No, sir..." He finally said, "We may have been beaten to a pulp, but I've still got one eye left. I can walk and run. I can still fight. I know I don't have to, but I'm not gonna let you guys fight this war by yourselves."

Ghost closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out silently through his nose before turning his gaze to look back at Roach. There's that same determination, He thought. That's one thing he liked about the sergeant, but this time he was worried about it. It was clear that Roach was wearing worn out armor that he tried to hold together, trying to hide his vulnerability and move on from the incident and keep fighting until the war is won, as it was what most other men of war would do. Ghost could see that his armor was cracking, and when it finally fell apart, he was already in the right place at the right time.

* * *

There was nothing wrong at first. The sergeant and lieutenant were simply standing together after finishing a nice drink and watching the sunset. They talked about what they would do if they survived the war. But as Roach noticed as he watched the sun sink behind the horizon was how he could feel his heart beating at a rapid pace. He didn't know what to think of it, only to worry not too much longer when he could literally hear and feel the blood being pumped through his head as the speed of his heart got quicker and quicker. He took a deep breath, or tried to, discovering that he could barely breathe, causing him to make a rough sound in the back of his throat. Ghost, who had been standing beside him the entire time, glanced over upon hearing the sound, "You alright, mate?"

Roach couldn't respond, releasing his shaky breath and leaning back on his heels to stimulate a bit of movement that wasn't enough because his thoughts kept telling him, walk. Run. Get out. The racing thoughts repeated, yet Roach couldn't bring himself to obey his mind. He couldn't note anything that was happening to him as he focused on being filled with even more terrifying emotions that were expressed through his sweaty skin and trembling hands. He lost sensation in his legs and the tips of his fingers. Concentrating only on the unknown fear, Ghost's voice seemed distant as he asked once more, "Roach, what's wrong?"

Roach wanted to say, "I don't know what's happening. Get help." But all that came out was a stuttering, "Um... Um..." When he could finally bring himself to move, he stumbled on his footing, falling back and going into even further panic as his fearful emotions quickly evolved into uncontrollable anxiety, blacking out for a short moment before coming back to the same place he was in before, only this time his lieutenant was in front of him, though his voice sounded a million miles away. He could feel his sweat soaking through his clothes, and when Ghost set his hands on him to bring him into focus, he couldn't help but scrunch up, as if he was trying to shield himself from getting hurt. His heart was pounding like it was trying to escape from his rib cage, and there was only one thought spinning in his head that he tried desperately to say but couldn't because he couldn't breathe.

I'm dying! Oh God, I'm dying!

All that came out was a desperate wheeze for air along with hot tears he had no control of holding back. In his blurry and dull vision, he could see Ghost saying something to him briefly before clutching his hand in his. He brought his other hand up to the younger man's face, trying to make him focus on him and him only. "Come on, mate," Ghost began stressfully, "Breathe... Just breathe."

"Ghost-!" Roach wheezed out, still breathing heavily.

"Right here... I'm right here, and I'm not leaving, alright? We're gonna get through this together." Roach finally recognized his words, but still couldn't bring himself to calm down.

"Come on, deep breath in," Ghost began, a bit calmer this time as he inhaled slowly. Roach took a shaky breath in as well, attempting to make his mind cooperate with him in this moment. "And let it out..." Ghost exhaled, Roach doing the same, only quicker.

"Again..." Ghost stayed crouched on the ground with Roach, breathing with him until he saw the paranoia fade from his eyes. There were still tears rushing out, but Roach's breathing was a lot calmer as well as he was breathing through his nose. "Alright..." Ghost breathed out, giving Roach's hand a squeeze, "You did it..."

Roach only nodded, dipping his head and closing his eyes as he continued the same breathing pattern. Ghost let him do it in silence for a few minutes until he heard a heavy exhale coming out of him, "I don't... I don't know what happened, sir. I-I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Ghost replied, "You don't have to apologize."

"I really don't know... I felt- I felt fine, but then..." Roach paused and stopped breathing all together.

"Don't go back in there, Roach," Ghost made him look up at him, "Keep breathing."

"But then I just... Crashed," He wept, "I thought I was finally losing it and... I tried to hold it together, sir. But I couldn't. I don't know if I still can..."

"I know... I know..." Ghost leaned his forehead into Roach's, "It's hell, mate... And I'm sorry you're going through it right now."

He let Roach cry while rubbing his shoulder, "You're not gonna fight in it alone though because I'll be right with you."


End file.
